


ditt namn tack.

by KainWarheit



Category: Afraid of Monsters & Cry of Fear
Genre: Alternate Universe - Soulmates, M/M, Rating May Change, Soulmate-Identifying Marks
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2018-07-12
Updated: 2018-07-14
Packaged: 2019-06-09 03:15:02
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 2
Words: 1,501
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/15258201
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/KainWarheit/pseuds/KainWarheit
Summary: Two souls surviving in the city, grasping on to a fragment of a dream. When they unknowingly become branded with the Mark of Soulmates, they struggle to find who, when, where, and why. Will they find their lost half or will the city swallow them whole?





	1. Dream

_ **Simon's POV:** _

 

_I'm being held against someone, pressed so close that there's no space between us. But... here. Here, there is no anxiety, no loneliness, no sadness. Here, I am home. I don't move, afraid to wake this special someone next to me. My breathing is soft but also deliberate as I take in their scent. On the next exhale..._

 

_...It's gone._

 

Abruptly, I open my eyes, and realize I had been dreaming. Tears well in the corners of my eyes as they begin to roll down my cheeks. I raise my hands to my face, fingertips swiping away the tears, gazing at them solemnly. They fade away from my fingers as quickly as they formed. But, the funny part...

 

**I can't remember what I was dreaming about.**

 

With a sigh, I get up out of bed and to the bathroom, splashing cold water on my face. I look into the mirror, ignoring the small hairs growing on my chin and upper lip, staring back at my own reflection.

 

_“Keep that scowl and Dr. Purnell will just shove more meds down your throat...”_

 

I begin to dress, pulling up my pants as I think of the day. It's been warmer recently, so I decide not to wear any undershirt as I pull my hoodie over me. The hoodie and the finger-less gloves are always, have always, and will always be a comfort to me. Dr. Purnell says it's not the healthiest coping, but not dangerous either.

 

I open the front door of the apartment my mother and I share, and step outside, closing the door behind me.

 

Stockholm...

 

Beautiful yet ugly all the same.

 

I take in a breath and start my walk down to the train station.

 

_ **David's POV** _

 

_“Damn, morning already?”_

 

I look over at my phone and check the time. It's morning, alright, but who would be calling me at this hour? Grumbling to myself, I turn over and fall back asleep.

 

_“...id.”_

 

This time, not my phone, but a voice.

 

_“...David! David, please!”_

 

A guy's voice?

 

_“Please, you need to stop! I can't lose you!”_

 

Huh? Stop what? Does he mean—

 

I blink, waking again after the strange dream. I sit up in bed and run my fingers through my hair, ruffling it lightly. Sighing, I get out of bed, pulling up my pants as I search for my turtleneck. I live more north from Stockholm and it's a little cool and windy today. Not that it would deter me from wearing my usual garb... After pulling on my sweater, I take my hoodie and pull it on over, slipping on my gloves. I usually wear all this shit no matter the weather—keeps me more hidden.

 

I open the door to my small apartment on the ground floor and step outside, closing the door behind me.

 

I'm looking for one person.

 

**Just one person.**

 

Somewhere.

 

I take in a breath and start my walk down to the train station.

 


	2. Addiction

_ **Simon's POV:** _

 

The train really isn't crowded; most people have made it to work or school already. The steady rocking, however slight it was, started to lull me to sleep. I tried to fight it, clutching my bag close to me as I began to nod off. My mind began to wander to what happened the day before yesterday...

 

_I lay there in the shower, naked, curled up in myself. My tears blend in with the droplets of water falling down my face, hitting the shower floor. I cradle my left arm, glancing down at the fresh horizontal wounds. I watch the blood wash down, staining the water red as it poured down the drain, my fingertips brushing against the wounds. I flinch at the touch as it stings, sucking in a breath to steady myself. Letting out a shaky breath, I start to close my eyes..._

 

**killyourselfkillyourselfkillyourselfkillyourselfkillyourselfkillyourselfkillyourselfkillyourselfkillyo**

 

My eyes snap open again. I look up at the monitor. The heart of Stockholm. This was my stop, where Doctor Purnell's office was. As the train stops, I squeeze my bag a bit tighter, apprehensive about meeting with the Doctor. Wounds still fresh, mind screaming... There was more than just apprehension.

 

**~**

 

“How long ago was it,” came the voice of Dr. Purnell, sighing with disappointment as he took off his reading glasses, inspecting them idly.

 

I pull down the sleeves of my hoodie to cover the bandages wounds as I bite back the urge to either snap at him or break down and cry with the mutual feeling of disappointment. Instead, I'm regrettably truthful, turning my head to the side to speak.

 

“Sunday.”

 

Today was Tuesday.

 

“Simon,” Purnell began, voice stern like a father's but somehow still professional. “Why didn't you report this?”

 

I fall silent. Too silent for too long, apparently, as the doctor releases another sigh, setting his glasses on the desk this time.

 

“Look, Simon, I know this is hard, but I sincerely want you to get better. I want you to call me next time you feeling the urge to hurt yourself. We can work through it together.”

 

I turn to face him again, giving a slow nod.

 

“I will.”

 

A lie, but a necessary one. One day, my time will come and I **won't** be calling him to “work through it together”. This was my decision and I was sticking to it.

 

With that, Dr. Purnell dismisses me until next week and I get up to leave, bag in tow, towards the train station again.

 

_ **David's POV:** _

 

I start to walk, boarding the train as it arrives at the station. Hand in my pocket, I wrap my fingers around an empty pill bottle, a certain sadness washing over me. Like an infant being pulled from the mother's breast—I don't want it, I **need** it. I sigh and sit down on one of the seats, leg bouncing anxiously as I try to patiently await my stop. Closing my eyes to relax, I think back to the day this all started...

 

_I was all entirely impatient as I awaited the arrival of what was promised to be my ray of hope in the form of a battle of pills. After chasing a mysterious email down the rabbit hole, I was told this “amazing” bottle was gonna cure these night terrors of mine that I've been having. The email coupled with the burning hatred towards crazy doctors, yeah, it seemed like a great idea. This mysterious person agreed to have the first bottle shipped in a discreet package, thus leading to my impatience._

 

_The doorbell rang and I could hear a car door slam within seconds, followed by, presumably, the same car speeding off. Once I couldn't hear the car's motor any more, I sprung up from my spot and ran to the door._

 

_When night came, I sat on the edge of the bed, bottle in one hand, a single clear pill in the other. Bottoms up._

 

_I swallowed it dry. Then, I close my eyes..._

 

**26164274923245122326164274923245122326164274923245122326164274923245122326164274923**

 

My eyes abruptly open again as a shiver runs up my spine. For a fraction of a second, fear grips me. But then I remember that these pills will help... With that, the train comes to a stop and I look up at the monitor. This was close enough to my stop—the heart of Stockholm. Only a few blocks from the drop-off.

 

**~**

 

“Good doin' business again, Leatherhoff.”

 

I nod and turn to walk away, pocket void of cash but full of my one way ticket to happiness. In my pocket, I slip out a single pill, throwing it in my mouth, and swallowing.

 

I'm walking down the street and it doesn't take long to take effect. My entire body, down to my soul, feels weightless, like I'm watching myself from a cloud up above. Slowly, people begin to move with trails—like each blink was a snapshot of an old camera. I don't feel really disoriented like I used to when I first started taking these pills. I mean that I'm not stumbling or falling over like I used to; much more coordinated for sure.

 

I continue on, watching as buildings began to wave back and forth, slow and steady. Almost like it was a mirage in the distance, heat surrounding and rising from the ground, causing things to skew and move under its spell. But, that wasn't the case at all here. I was tripping something hard. I was—

 

… I paused, caught staring into the glass of a nearby shop's window. The reflection staring back at me... It certainly looked like me; same hair, facial structure, overall build. But those eyes—as dead and void and lifeless as the night sky over a cemetery—scared the shit out of me. The word “DEAD” seemed to be stitched over the mouth, droplets of blood dribbling down the chin. Suddenly, those lifeless eyes... they began to bleed. I couldn't take anymore as my legs moved before my head could turn away.

 

I ran for the train station.

 

**Author's Note:**

> "ditt namn tack" supposedly means "your name please"  
> Basically was inspired after reading like one chapter of the Your Name novel whoops.  
> Dedicated to two of my great friends! <3


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